


Falling Apart, Coming Together

by brodylover



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Blood, Confession, Destiel - Freeform, First Time, M/M, Nightmares, Season gr8
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 11:53:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,699
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/661703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brodylover/pseuds/brodylover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Naomi is dead but her death seems to have left Cas a bit worse for wear. Dean has to keep him alive and confessing his feelings seems to be the only way to do that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling Apart, Coming Together

Naomi lay on the ground, quivering and bleeding. Dean stood over her, the angel blade dripping in his hand. A bright white glow exploded from her eyes and mouth before her long and thin extremely elegant wings burned into the tile floor. Sam wasn’t there at his side when she died, when Dean killed her, he was in the corner of the room, holding onto Cas, trying to keep him there. Cas was terrified the whole time that Dean and Naomi were fighting. Useless and small, he cowered in the corner, but Dean couldn’t do anything to stop it. He wanted to be there for his angel, wanted to defend him and remove his fear. He had to fight though, had to kill the bitch that was destroying his friend.   
Now that she was dead, her body cooling and her wings no longer smoking, Cas was no longer afraid. He was no longer clinging to Sam with that horrible expression on his face. He was unconscious, his body slumped, blood dripping from that strange spot just above his eye. Sam was shouting and shaking him and Dean fell to his side, grabbing onto him. Cas was unmoving, the blood on his face a stark contrast to pale skin.   
The white walls of heaven, the weird room that couldn’t possibly exist, faded away and there they were back on the side of the road, Cas leaning against the Impala instead of the corner. He wasn’t moving and he was horribly cold, his breath barely noticeable. They lifted him up and laid him out on the backseat of the Impala before driving to the first motel they came across.  
Dean lay Cas down on one of the motel beds, stetching him out as best as he could to make him as comfortable as he could. He still wasn’t moving, still was having a hard time breathing. Dean couldn’t leave him, couldn’t even go to the bathroom. He just wanted to stay there, wanted to make sure that Cas was alright. He was holding onto the angel, praying silently for him to wake up. Nothing was happening.   
The sun finally set and Sam was getting tired. He got his own motel room and left Dean to sleep in the second queen beside his friend. He tried it, finding himself lying on his side so that he could see Cas, so he could watch over him for once. Cas wasn’t sleeping, angels never sleep, and Dean couldn’t sleep either. He was worried. What if Cas was dying? What if whatever that Naomi bitch had done was making him human, had shut him down, had destroyed that strange and wonderful brain. Dean didn’t know what he would do if Cas wasn’t alright.   
It was around 4am when Cas finally started to breathe more naturally, starting with a sharp gasp and some pants. His chest was rising violently. Dean popped up, throwing himself over to Cas’s side. He climbed onto Cas’s bed, one hand making it onto Cas’s chest and feeling his heartbeat. It was going fast and so hard and Dean was terrified that it was about to break. When he finally caught his breath, his chest resuming a more natural, more human, speed, Dean was able to breathe as well. His heart slowed as well, making him seem a bit better.  
Dean was able to get a small amount of sleep after that.   
It was around 9am Cas started to shake, tremors climbing his body. Sam was the one who had noticed it, and he was the one to wipe the sweat from Cas’s brow and recommend they take him to a hospital. Dean wouldn’t allow that. Cas wasn’t human, if they took him to a hospital, surely the doctors would notice something was off about his biology. He didn’t know how Cas had gotten out of the hospital back when they were up against the horsemen.   
The tremors were acting like they would in dreams, coming and going as if Cas was having nightmares. He was sweating profusely as well, his temperature dangerously high. Dean touched his forehead and immediately sent Sam out to get some ice from downstairs. He hated this, not knowing what to do. He thought about when Sam was a kid, maybe 12 and he had the flu. He had a really high temperature and Dad was on ajob, so all he had was a medical show on tv and Bobby on the phone. He had to strip Sam down and put him in the bathtub, filling it with ice water to cool him down enough.   
Cas was wearing too much.   
Dean lifted him up and rested Cas’s chin again his shoulder, making it possible for him to strip off all of those layers. How could Cas stand wearing so much? He threw the trenchcoat, the tie, the blazer, and the shirt to the floor before slowly pushing him back onto the bed so that he could work on his pants and socks.   
That was when he saw the scar on Cas’s chest. It was poorly healed, raised like Dean’s own scar, and it was thin and horrible. Dean touched it delicately, remembering how easily the razor had slid through the angel’s skin. He had done this, he had been the one who carved the sigil into Cas’s body. He was the one who had held him down, ignored his screams as he cut. He was the one who had damaged Cas’s trust by deciding to say yes to Michael.   
He wondered if all this could have been avoided, all of Cas’s self hatred, this encounter with Naomi, his experience in Purgatory, if he hadn’t decided to say yes. If he hadn’t been beaten up in that alley. If Cas had never had to question his intentions.   
He leaned forward, his lips brushing against Cas’s thick and trembling eyelashes, “I can fix this.” He consoled the angel quietly.   
He pulled away when Sam came back in.   
It was around 2:30pm when Cas started to murmur. The words were nonsense, cutting in and out of existence, most of them too quiet for Dean to recognize. The ice had mostly melted but he didn’t dare to leave, to go out and get more. If he had to he could fill the bathtub with cold water and put Cas into that. It wouldn’t be as cold, but it would have to do.  
Sam was gone, getting them lunch. He was worried, and not just worried about Cas. He was worried about Dean, and Dean hated that. He was the big brother, the protector, he shouldn’t have Sam looking out for him. But he was busy, he had Cas here and he may have been dying.   
He was still bleeding, intermitantly there would be some blood dripping from that space above his eye. There was no cut there, no hole, but that didn’t seem to matter. Cas would randomly start bleeding there and Dean would wipe it away without hesitation, try to keep that pale skin free of the contrasting red. It made him look even more pale and sickly.   
At around 7pm Dean was so tired that he could do hardly anything besides go to bed. He shooed Sam out of the room and lay down on his bed. Cas was finally cool enough for the ice to be gone, but he was still shivering and sometimes he would call out loudly. Dean tried to sleep, he was exhausted, but every time he closed his eyes he pictured waking up without Cas there. He kept expecting Cas to be dead when he opened his eyes.   
Cas wasn’t helping either. Some of the exclamations were loud, terrified. Dean could understand them a bit better too, “No”s and “Stop”s being the majority of them. Cas was having nightmares. He was still in there, still in Heaven with Naomi. Dean watched him, lying on his side, as Cas made horrible sounds, whimpers and pleas, all alone.   
Dean wanted it to stop, he wanted Cas to be perfectly alright, and not just physically.   
He was also being violent though, tossing and turning, his arms flailing at times. Dean didn’t know how to fix it, but he did know what he had hoped for when he was having so much trouble sleeping after Purgatory. He’d wanted someone to hold him, remind his body while he was asleep that he was out. Cas needed to be reminded that he was out of Heaven, away from Naomi.   
So Dean climbed into bed beside him and tried to stop his violent excursions. Cas fought him in his sleep, hit him hard enough to bruise his arm, but Dean grabbed his wrist and forced it flat against the bed. That was wrong. Cas should have pushed him away, should have broken his arm. He was weak, human weak, and bruise was all he could do.   
Grabbing his wrists though, that seemed to be the wrong thing to do. Cas gritted his teeth, fought agaist Dean, still unconscious. It took Dean too long to realize that holding his wrists like that, forcing his hands into a specific place, it was like Cas was bound. How much damage had Naomi caused?  
He let him go then and instead, pressed his body against Castiel’s back, spooning him delicately. That seemed to work and Cas lay still, the shivers lessening slightly as he finally got some actual sleep. Dean hadn’t done this in years and, as an adult, he felt embarrassed. He had done this for Sam’s childhood nightmares, never for an adult bodied angel. An angel who smelled human, like blood and sweat, and was hot against him, with soft skin that was smooth exept for that scar and the stubble on his jaw. Dean wondered what it would taste like.   
He was still wondering that when he finally fell asleep.   
It was around 5am when he woke up to a still form in his arms. Cas wasn’t moving, wasn’t shivering, wasn’t muttering, wasn’t anything. Dean panicked, shaking Cas lightly by the shoulders.   
The angel’s eyes opened.   
“Dean.” His voice was millennia away.  
“I got you Cas, it’s okay, it’s over.” He promised.  
“Over?”   
“Yeah, we ganked that Naomi bitch. You’re in a motel. You’ve been out ever since.”  
Cas turned over, groaning in pain as he did. He wasn’t physically injured, he shouldn’t have been hurting. His eyes were wide and innocent and scared when they searched Dean’s face, “You’re here.”  
“I’m not leaving you, Cas.” Dean smiled a small little smile.  
“You should.” Cas’s voice cracked, “I’ve betrayed you again. I’ve been bad, again. I told you I would destroy everything again, and I did. I was trying to atone, there’s no way I can ever atone for what I’ve done.”  
“Will you get over that?” Dean pressed himself up against Cas again. He was strange like this, without all of those protective layers. He was smaller, more delicate, “You don’t have to atone. You have to learn from your mistakes. And you didn’t betray us. It was some form of mind control. Naomi was using you. You had no choice.”  
But there was something cold being pressed into Dean’s hand and Cas’s eyes were so sad. It was clear that they angel didn’t believe him. He looked at his hand and an angel blade was there. He didn’t know where Cas had pulled it from, but he hated the feeling of it in his hand.   
“Please, Dean. You have to kill me. I can’t, I’m too much of a coward to do it myself. I need you to stop me from being bad again. You have to end this.”  
“No.” and Dean’s voice was cracking now too. He grabbed Cas’s face with his free hand and dragged it closer to his own, resting his forehead against Cas’s fevered one, “No, Cas. You can’t make me do that. I can’t kill you, I won’t. You’re my best friend. I’ll protect you, make sure no one uses you, but not by killing you.”  
But Cas pulled away, sat up as best he could before the pain was too much and he fell back against the headboard. “Where’s Sam?”  
“He got his own room, but he’s not going to kill you either.”  
“He’s the one with sense.”  
Dean pulled himself up to Cas’s level and he answered his own question. He figured out what an angel tasted like. He kissed Cas softly, if only for the reason that he wanted to change the topic, that he wanted Cas to stop talking about getting himself killed. He had told him that he needed him, but it seemed that Cas didn’t understand. His lips did a better job explaining than he did. Cas was stiff against him at first, his lips unmoving, but he slowly accepted the worship Dean was giving with his lips and took in the prayers that were hanging off of them, opening his mouth and letting Dean push them in with his tongue.   
Cas kissed softly, hesitantly, but with a thirst deep inside. He had never been kissed, only kissed back by Meg and that was a repeated motion from a porno. This, this was real. This was something that Dean had wanted for so long and he was so glad that Cas wasn’t pushing him away, wasn’t vanishing, that the problems that the angel was going through seemed to fade away. Instead his hand made it to Dean’s head, his fingers threading through his hair.  
“Do you” Cas swallowed hard a big ball of nerves resting in his throat, “love me, Dean?”  
“Oh God.” Dean kissed him again, “I don’t know. I don’t think I know what love is. Is that okay?”  
“Neither do I.” Cas’s fingers were getting tight, his free hand taking the hand with the blade in it, their fingers intertwining around the hilt, “I’ve seen it, I know how it works, but I don’t know how it feels. I want you though.”  
Dean pulled away, what was Cas saying? Was he talking about sex?   
“I’ve wanted you for so long.” Cas’s fingers left his hair and went to his pants, his movements slow and shakey, “Can I?”  
“Are you feeling well enough?” he grabbed Cas’s hand, worried.  
“I’m assuming you’ll be doing most of the work, unfortunately. Is that alright?”  
Dean kissed him harder, pushing him back against the headboard, “I want to be inside of you, Cas, I want you tight around me, moaning out my name. Yeah, that’s fine.”  
He undid Cas’s pants and tried not to notice how Cas winced when he pulled them off.   
He was beautiful.   
His body was lean and long, even though he always looked so short and bulky. Those were the clothes and the fact that he was always next to Dean or Sam. He was tall when he was alone. His skin was perfect except for that sigil on his chest and Dean kissed that gingerly. His ribs were faintly noticeable with his breathing and his body hair was dark and thick. His penis was narrow and half hard, the tip turning red as it waited for some kind of contact.   
Dean ran his palm over the sensitive skin and Cas was gasping, head thrown back. He’d never even touched himself and here Dean was, showing him the point of his vessel. Dean kept stroking, milking out panted whines and kissing at Cas’s throat.   
“If you’re reacting like this,” he mused, “You’re going to love what I do to you.”  
Cas looked back at him, his eyes glazing over from the pleasure he was receiving, exhaustion, and the pain of his bones. “Is it… going to hurt? You being inside of me?”  
Dean kissed him again, light and sweet against his lips. It felt good, finally being here, finally getting to kiss the angel he’d wanted all of these years. “I’ll do everything I can to keep from hurting you, Cas.” He promised, “But let me know, okay? Tell me if it hurts and I’ll back off.”  
Cas smiled at that, the motion almost making it to his eyes.   
Then he threw his head back again, moaning loudly as Dean plamed his cock harder than before, grinding into it quickly. Then it was Dean’s mouth on his cock, his lips stretched around it, and Cas was huffing, groaning, trying not to thrust deeper into Dean’s mouth. The human took him slowly at first, trying to swallow him all of the way down. Dean had done this a few times, a few one night stand with dark haired men with not as brilliant blue eyes. Stand ins. Cas tasted better, sounded better, was better than all of them.   
So Dean sucked and licked and teased at that thick shaft until his jaw ached, until Cas was shaking, tremors riding his body like electricity in wire. Only then did he pull off of him and kiss him once more.   
“I’m going to lay you down, okay?” he asked. Cas nodded, even though the movement made him wince.   
Cas clutched him and whined, his eyes pressed close and his teeth digging into his lip as Dean moved him, lay him down on his back, his legs bent at the knee and spread apart. Dean kissed him again, kissed all of the aching muscles until the pain subsided and Cas was begging for Dean to get going.  
So Dean did. He licked at Cas’ hole, making him whine all over again before he pressed a finger inside of him, twisting and pushing, trying to make Cas make the most beautiful sounds that he could. He kept kissing him, swallowed the gasps and moans, tried to show Cas just how much he loved him. It was impossible, nothing was enough to show Cas just how much he felt for him.   
He was gentle, spitting onto his fingers before thrusting in a second digit. He wanted Cas to be as comfortable as possible. Cas was clutching at sheets, clutching at Dean, sweating and moaning and gritting his teeth and wincing at the pain of his own movements.   
When he pressed in a third Cas called out his name. He froze, eyes wide, searching Cas’s face. He had told him to say something if it hurt. Cas breathed though, just breathed, and he looked so blissful, so content, that he continued on, scissoring and wriggling the small hole open enough for him to press in. He was bigger than his four fingers, but he’d done this before, with the lights off so that he could better pretend that the men he was with were Cas.   
When he finally pressed himself inside of his angel, nice and slow, the angel was gasping otut his name, the words not all in English. Some were enochian, some were even older than that. Dean kissed them away, swallowed down each prayer that Cas moaned out. He stayed inside of him, not moving, just sitting and letting the angel’s muscle’s adjust. He pressed his palm against Cas’s erection again, this time wrapping his hand around the stiff organ and starting to pump.  
That had Cas’s eyes rolling back in his head and his lips went slack.   
“So beautiful.” Dean breathed, surprising himself. It was true though, Cas was beautiful, even more so when he was falling apart on his cock. “God Cas, want you like this forever.”  
Then he moved, sliding out almost completely before pushing as deep as he could back in. Cas cried out, partially out of pain but mostly from pleasure. Dean did that again, then a few more times, before he picked up the pace and just let his body go with a natural rhythm, slamming deep into his angel, but as soft and careful as he could manage. And he stroked him as well, keeping Cas’s cock pumping in a rhythm matching his rolling hips.  
Cas came with a shout and some blood started to leak from that spot above his eye once more. Dean kissed the blood away, smearing it on his own face as he continued, so close with Cas so tight and needy around him. When he came, Cas was almost unconscious, exhausted from the pain and pleasure.   
Dean pulled out of him immediately after coming, using the last of his willpower to lick Cas’s spunk off of his chest, off of that scar, before warpping his body around him, holding him tight and feeling his warmth.   
“How was it, Cas?” he whispered into his ear.  
“Mmm.” Was all Cas could reply with for a while.   
Still, not ten minutes later, Cas had the angel blade in his hand and he was pressing it into Dean’s hand, his muscles trembling at the strength it took. Dean kissed him, hard and cruel, trying to hide the tears springing to his eyes.  
“After all this, Cas? You still want to die?” he couldn’t believe it. He felt used, like Cas had just wanted a good fucking before he offed himself.  
“I can be used, Dean, I can be used against you. If you’re not going to kill me, you’re going to have to claim me.”  
Dean halted. He stared at Cas, terrified and turned on by the concept. What had he meant, claim him? Then he stared at the blade. There could be no good claim where it was involved.   
Cas raised his hand again, this time placing it on the handprint scar on Dean’s shoulder. “I need this, Dean. I need your print on me, so you own me. So you are the only one who could control me.”  
“I don’t want to own you Cas.” He kissed him again, softer this time, “I don’t want to control you, I want to love you.”  
“You have to do this. It will keep me from being possessed, from my mind being taken by anyone else. You don’t have to control me, but this will keep it so that no one else can. Please.”  
Dean couldn’t argue it. He placed his hand on Cas’s shoulder, and kissed Cas as passionately and fully as he could manage before he began to carve.


End file.
